Bound by Fate
by B'Danya
Summary: Au. Gondor allied itself with with Mordor. Now, the Fellowship must save all of Middle Earth. But before they can do that, they must meet and overcome personal struggles. Chapter 5 is finally up!
1. Capture

Bound by Fate

Disclaimer: I do not own The Lord of the Rings, or any of the characters in this chapter. However, I _do_ own the plot, the slightly altered history (this is AU, after all), and whatever odd thoughts happen to come out of my head.

Chapter 1: Capture 

            _'I must keep running,'_ the frantic Elf thought to himself. _'They're catching up to me… curse those stupid Men!'_ he added. He looked over his shoulder briefly; only long enough to see just how close the Men chasing him on horseback were getting, before focussing once more at the forest he was running through. _'They weren't always this way, though. There was a time when they were our allies. That was before they listened to Sauron the Deceiver…'_ he mused. As his mind wandered from his surroundings to the past he lost track of the forest around him.

            Without his focus on the forest he didn't notice the two men who had pulled a thin cord between two trees at knee height. He ran into it at full speed and bit back a curse as he landed unceremoniously on the forest floor. He tried to get up to start running again, but a heavy weight launched itself onto his back. That weight was actually one of the men that had set the trap for him. "Don't move, Elfie," the Man ordered, placing a long knife against the elf's throat. "I got him, Lord!" he shouted, presumably to one of the men on the horse. The Man grabbed the Elf's bow, but left the empty quiver alone; he didn't notice the twin blades hidden under the elf's tunic, but the Elf made no move to use them. To try to get them out now would not only take away an advantage, it would be suicide.

            _'Those poor horses… they don't even want to serve their masters,' _he thought with pity as he saw a horse's legs beside him. Suddenly someone grabbed his hair and forced him to look up. He saw a tall Man dressed in a typical uniform, although it had gold trim on it. He held himself in a very regal fashion, with his auburn hair and beard trimmed neater than any of the others. _'He must be the Captain of this group,' _he mused worriedly. 

            The Man looked down at the Elf, quickly observing the filthy blonde hair and the worn-looking brown and green ensemble. "Most definitely a Mirkwood traitor. Do you know who I am?" he sneered at the Elf as he dismounted his horse. The Elf's eyes glazed over in an attempt to make himself pass out before they could torture him; this infuriated the Man. He grabbed the Elf's hair and exposed one of the pointed ears; he pinched it cruelly between two nails. The Elf's eyes became clear in an instant and he had to bite his tongue to keep himself from crying out. "Do you know who I am?" the Man repeated. 

            The Elf glared at him. "You are a traitor to all of Middle Earth, you are a murderer, a slaver, a bastard…" his voice trailed off as the Man's hand slapped him across the face.

            "I am Prince Boromir, and _you_ are the traitor. Anyone who rebels against Lord Sauron is a traitor," he said harshly. "Where are your friends? You were coming here to meet someone, I assume," he added, looking around the forest. "Perhaps some Rangers?"

            The Elf sighed. "I wanted to talk to the trees without any foolish Men bothering me," he replied mockingly. "Before I was so rudely interrupted by a False Prince…." He stopped again as the Man, Boromir, hit him. 

            "Milord, you should see this," a new Man's voice called. "I can read Elvish and there is something written on his bow," he added.

            Boromir smirked at the Elf, who seemed to be muttering curses. "Bring it here and show me," he ordered.

            The Man did as Boromir asked. As he showed Boromir the elvish writing on the bow he translated the meaning. "This is the bow of Legolas Greenleaf of Mirkwood. May it always hit its mark," the Man said. "What should we do with it?" he asked. 

            "We'll bring it with us, of course. The King will be pleased to see we have captured an elf," he said. "Tie him up and put him on my horse," he ordered the Man still sitting on Legolas. He mounted his horse and had Legolas put in front of him. He looked around and saw that his unit was ready to move. "Back to the palace!" he called as he started his horse at a brisk trot. A cheer went up behind him as the others followed. 

~*~

Legolas wanted nothing more than to get off the horse and run for it, but it was difficult. His hands had been bound tightly behind his back and there was a rope attached to his neck, the other hand conveniently being held by Boromir. Boromir's arm had also found its way around Legolas' slender waist, pulling the Elf against the Man. '_If I can't get off the horse, maybe I can keep the horse from doing what these fools want it to do,'_ he mused. Deciding on a course of action, he began muttering quietly in Elvish.

            Boromir heard Legolas start murmuring something quietly, but couldn't make it out. As it got louder, he noticed that his horse was speeding up. "What are you doing!" he shouted at the Elf. "Stop it right now!"

            Legolas looked back at him and gave a maniacal grin. He continued his chanting in elvish. "_Noro lim, noro lim, noro lim…_" The horse responded well to the chanting and sped up to it's fastest. The unit of men was becoming farther away with every passing moment. 

            Boromir knew the lay of the land well, and remembered that there was an area with many dips and sharp turns coming up. "You'll get us both killed, you stupid Elf!" he shouted, seeing the first turn coming up. 

            Legolas didn't heed his warning. He continued to urge the horse on, not noticing the curve until the last moment. The horse took the curve well, but threw both Legolas and Boromir. "_Daro! Daro!_" he called to the horse. The horse turned around and came back, stopping right in front of Legolas. 

            Boromir took a dagger out of his belt and held it to Legolas' throat. "If you try anything like that again, I'll kill you!" 

            He watched as Legolas' eyes acquired a hardness that hadn't been there before. "Good. Kill me. Do you think it makes a difference to me whether you kill me now or imprison me?" Legolas asked with a grave tone.

            Before Boromir could respond to the comment, the other Men had caught up. "Give him a sleeping draught, I don't want him causing any more trouble," he ordered. A flask of the draught was procured and handed to Boromir. "Drink up, traitor," he ordered, placing the flask to Legolas' lips.

            Legolas closed his mouth tightly, thinking of all the tales he had heard about the draughts. Many elves that had drunk the draught never awoke. He tried to move away, but found that someone was using his hair as a leash. He tried to kick away from the Man holding him, but achieved little success. 

Boromir's free hand grabbed Legolas' nose and pinched it shut. Without being able to breath through his nose, he soon had to open his mouth for air. When he did that, Boromir poured the liquid down his throat. "That wasn't so bad, now was it?" he asked with a smirk. The Elven Prince didn't seem to understand what Boromir had said: the draught was fast acting, and he was already losing alertness. Boromir watched as Legolas looked around, blinking owlishly in an attempt to remain awake, then collapsed against him with a soft sigh. "Almost too easy…" he murmured to himself before lifting the Elf onto the horse and mounting behind him. "Onwards to Minas Tirith!" he called to the men. There was a loud answering cheer as they began galloping back to the White City.

A/N: I apologize for the lack of details in this chapter, but I did it for a reason. Also, I am posting chapter 2 at the same time, and it has more details. Please r/r, flames welcome as they ill be used to feed my muse.


	2. Minas Tirith

**Bound By Fate**

Disclaimer: I do not own LotR, or any characters that appear in any of Tolkien's wonderful writings. However, this plot is all mine, created during a boring day in English class. {This is people speaking in Elvish}. If any actual Elvish appears, it will be translated and noted at the end of this chapter. 

**Chapter 2: Minas Tirith**

            When Legolas awoke he found himself pressed, yet again, to the Man named Boromir. He made no motion, however, that alerted Boromir to the fact that he was awake. Instead he watched his surroundings with slightly glazed eyes. '_This must be Minas Tirith…'_ he mused absently. '_It's so… busy…'_ He watched as the people of the White City bustled around, buying groceries and other household tools. Many stopped and watched as Prince Boromir passed, murmurs about the prince's bravery and approval for capturing an elf rippling through the crowd. '_Little do they know that he is not even a Prince,'_ he thought angrily. Indeed, his family had only had 'kings' and 'princes' in it for three generations, including Boromir. Legolas thought back to what had transpired to cause such a turn of events.

            It was Ecthelion II who had ruined the peace that the Free Peoples had lived under since the battle of the Last Alliance. When Sauron's shadow began to grow again, the Dark Lord sent messengers to the Steward, offering him the throne of Gondor and a Ring of Power like the ones of old. Tempted by the lure of power, he accepted, allying Gondor and Mordor and following whatever Sauron told him to do. Sauron knew that the Heirs of Isildur would try to claim the throne and endeavoured to have them killed. He thought that he had eradicated the line of kings, but had only succeeded in part: he had Arathorn slain, but none of Sauron's minions had thought to kill his wife, who later discovered that she was with child. That child was now hidden and protected from the wrath of the enemy. 

            "Estel coia…" he murmured, not realizing that he had spoken aloud. [Hope lives… (1)].

            Boromir's arm tightened around the Elf. "So you're awake. I was wondering how long you would be asleep," he said quietly next to Legolas' ear. He fell silent again as they passed the last gate, which lead into the palace. They dismounted in the stables, with much struggling on Legolas' part, and chains were brought forward to Boromir. "Put them on him," Boromir ordered, grabbing the Elf in such a way that he could not escape easily.

            Legolas saw the chains and panicked. "No! No, get those away from me!" he cried, struggling. His foot kicked up behind him and hit Boromir solidly in the groin. As Boromir's grip loosened slightly he bolted forwards, breaking Boromir's grip entirely. The horses in the stable all sensed the Elf's fear and began pawing at their stalls, trying to get loose. 

            Boromir recovered quickly and advanced on the Elf. He was rewarded for this action by Legolas' fist punching him hard across the side of his jaw. Boromir flinched slightly, but took the Elf's momentum to swing him around and press him to the wall. "Chain him!" he yelled to the man with the chains. The chains had shackles at both wrists and both ankles, and both chains were linked together at a large metal collar. The chains from the legs to the neck were purposefully too short, forcing a prisoner to slump over. There was a leash coming from the collar which Boromir grabbed, and began dragging Legolas towards the throne room. 

            On the way to the throne room Legolas tried with all his might to stop. He planted his feet on the ground, held onto corners, and clutched onto pillars, all with no avail. He was eventually tugged into the throne room, where he saw a man on a throne with a black-cloaked figure speaking to him. "Who dares interrupt my meeting?" the Man in the throne boomed.

            Boromir stood where he was. "It is I, Boromir. I greet thee, King and Father, with a trophy," he stated in a menacing tone.

            The black-cloaked figure looked over towards Boromir and Legolas and said something to the King. After a moment the King sighed and said, "Bring it here, Boromir, and report to me about the mission." Legolas watched the cloaked figure with trepidation, sensing great evil coming from it.

            Boromir obeyed his father, dragging the now trembling Elf behind. When he got before the throne he bowed deeply, then forced Legolas onto his knees. "We were either late or early for the meeting, we aren't sure which yet. When we arrived we found this _Elf_," he said, grabbing Legolas' hair and forcing the Elf to look up at the King. "There were none of his kindred there and we saw no Rangers, but I left a team behind to watch for them."

            Legolas averted his eyes as much as he could from any of the figures there, ashamed that he had been caught so easily, and that he would place his friends in such danger. The cloaked man threw back his hood and Boromir gasped in shock; Legolas looked up to see what was happening and saw what appeared to be a Man, but had pure black eyes. Boromir bowed again, deeper than he had bowed for his father. "Lord Sauron, forgive me, I did not see who you were…" his voice trailed off, expecting a reprimand.

            Instead of harsh words directed at Boromir, Sauron grabbed the Elf by the jaw. "It's a very pretty trophy," his said with a malevolent grin. "Do you intend to keep it, or give it away?" he asked. 

            Legolas was terrified when he realized exactly who was standing in front of him. "S… S… Sauron…." He managed to stammer, nearly collapsing with fear. Fearing that he wouldn't make it out of this room alive, he launched a stream of elvish swearing that would have made the most seasoned Elf-lord blush.

            Boromir was about to hit Legolas for his outburst, but stopped when Sauron began laughing. "Quite a spirited one, aren't you?" he asked in as amused a tone as a Dark Lord could manage. His voice then dropped dangerously low and he said, "Just remember, little one, you tried and failed to destroy me before. Even if you can gather enough of your people together, you are simply no match for me." He looked deep into Legolas' eyes, projecting his malice into the Elf's mind. Legolas gave a startled cry, and then his body went limp.

            Looking down at Legolas, then back up at Sauron, he asked, "What did you do to him?"

            "Nothing that will damage him permanently, I assure you. He might have a headache when he wakes up, but no lasting physical effects," he explained. "Now, young Prince, how have your studies been?"

            Boromir thought for a moment before answering. "They have been well. There is one thing I cannot understand in history, though," he admitted. When it was indicated that he should speak of the trouble, he continue. "If the Elves attacked you three thousand years ago and you started eradicating them then, why are there so many of them now?" he asked, sounding very much like a curious child.

            Sauron nodded. "An understandable question. You see the Elves are very good at hiding. They are masters of deceit and subterfuge, and will dwell in any forest. The forests work with the elves to hide them, as will any living creatures that dwell there," he explained.

            Boromir thought it through, and it made sense. "Thank you, it is all so much clearer now. If I may have your permission to be dismissed, Father, so that you may continue your meeting?" he asked.

            Denethor nodded. "Of course, Boromir, and take that creature with you," he added gesturing at Legolas. Boromir bowed to the King and the Dark Lord, then picked up Legolas and left.

            He walked through the corridors, ignoring the looks that he was getting. As he walked, his mind drifted over his history lessons. Three thousand years ago the Elves fought against Lord Sauron, trying to eliminate him so that they could dominate Middle Earth. They succeeded partway, managing to weaken him and losing something that had great value to him: a plain gold ring. The elves went into hiding, as did some cowardly Men that called themselves Rangers. Now it was ordered that all elves and Rangers were to be captured, and that if the ring was found that it would be returned immediately to Lord Sauron. 

            He soon made it to the dungeons where the captured elves and Rangers were kept. The master guard greeted him with a grin. "Fresh meat, your Highness?" he queried with a sadistic smirk.

            Boromir nodded and dropped the Elf onto the floor. "This one is mine, so don't harm it too much. We think it might have information about where those traitorous Rangers are hiding, so feel free to question him," he informed the guard.

            "Don't worry, highness, after about a week of the dungeons, he'll be begging to tell us where they are," the guard assured Boromir.

            "Good," the Prince replied, "keep me informed." With that he walked away, heading back to his room to get washed. The guard picked up Legolas and opened the door to the large cell, and then tossed Legolas in. The door closed quickly before any of the prisoners could escape.

            Boromir quickly bathed and trimmed his beard. He dressed in his everyday clothes and sat for a while, thinking about the Elf. He had never captured one before, and was surprised at its struggles. Surely it should know by now that it was useless to struggle against the Gondorian army. Annoyed at the thoughts that kept plaguing him, he summoned a servant. "There was a blonde Elf recently brought to the dungeons. I want him brought here immediately," he ordered. The servant nodded and went to the dungeons.

~*~

            Legolas awoke to several pairs of hands touching him, and someone's face near his. He screamed loudly in panic, not knowing where he was and unable to see much in the darkness; the last thing he could remember was Sauron invading his mind…

            A strong hand clapped itself over his mouth. "Quiet, little Greenleaf. Don't draw any attention to yourself, we don't want the guards to come in," a familiar voice said soothingly.

            Legolas complied, and once the hand was removed he asked, "Who are you? I can't see you."

            Several of the hands left his body, and he was aware of several bodies moving away from him. "It is Elrond, young one," the voice answered. "You are in the dungeons of Minas Tirith. We have several rules: don't use our ranks, we don't want the Men to know them, help anyone in here that you can, and do not attract the attention of the guards," he stated as though he had said it many times.

            "When did you get captured, and how?" Legolas asked. "And what of your…" his voice trailed off and he gestured to his ring finger.

            Elrond sighed. "I was brought here several days ago. I travelled out of Imladris, for there was one of our kindred wounded badly at the Ford of Bruinen, and I was captured. Elladan and Elrohir now guard Imladris and all possessions that lie there. That is not important right now, though, for there are many other things to worry about," he told Legolas. "Once your eyes adjust to the dark you will see many here lying still on the floor. They are the fading ones, the ones who will themselves to leave this place. We must try to bring them hope."

            "Estel…" Legolas breathed. "I was sent to the Drúadan Forest with a message. Estel is in Gondor…" His voice trailed off again as Elrond's hand found it's way over his mouth again.

            {If you discuss such things, speak in our tongue. The guards don't understand it, so there is no chance of them finding out what we plan. Now, what were you there for?" Elrond asked.

            {Estel is in Gondor; I wasn't told why he's here, but he is. There were plans being made to attack Minas Tirith and free all of the captives. Might that knowledge stop some of them from fading?} he asked, looking around the room. His eyes had finally adjusted, and he could see how many of his kindred were lying on the floor, willing themselves to die. 

            Elrond's face suddenly took on a pained look. "We can try. Come with me, there is someone I want you to see," Elrond told him. He stood up and walked over to one of the elves lying deathly still on the floor. Legolas followed and gasped in shock when he saw who it was. "Ada! [2]" he cried, sinking to the floor and grasping the Silvan elf's hand. [Father].

            The blond elf on the floor that looked striking similar to Legolas, opened his eyes. "Legolas…" he mumbled. "Not you… you shouldn't be here, you should be free, in a forest…" Thranduil, King of Mirkwood, mumbled.

            Legolas looked down at his once-proud father, and forced himself to smile. "I have good news, Father," he announced. {Estel is here in Gondor. There are arrangements being made to free everyone from this dungeon. Don't let yourself fade, father, we will be free soon,} he told his father. 

            "I wish I could believe you," he murmured, closing his eyes. "But no one ever escapes from this pit," he said, his voice filled with despair. 

            Legolas lay down next to his father and rested his head on the elder Elf's chest. "We will escape, father. I promise," he whispered soothingly. At that moment three large guards came in with bright lanterns; the light was so bright that it burned the eyes of many of the elves. They came towards Legolas and grabbed him, trying to pull him away from Thranduil. Elrond was trying to stop them, and had started a fistfight with one of the guards. Thranduil was trying to hold his son to him, just as Legolas was trying to stay with Thranduil. Finally Legolas was pried away from his father, and struggled to get free. Thranduil got up and joined Elrond is beating on the guards. "Ada! Don't let them take me!" he cried, expecting torture at the very least, or perhaps another encounter with Sauron. More guards came in to quell the disturbance, and Legolas watched helplessly as his father and Elrond were pummelled. He was taken from the dungeon and had the chains put on him again. "Where are you taking me?" he asked worriedly.

            One of the guards laughed. "Elf, you don't want to know." The tone of his voice was enough to send chills down Legolas' spine. "But you'll find out soon enough."

A/N – There you go, the end of chapter two. Hope you're enjoying it so far. This is _not_ going to focus around Boromir and Legolas, by the way. The next chapter will bring Aragorn and the Hobbits into the story.

Notes on Elvish: If I actually write in Elvish, it will be formulated from The Grey Company's elvish, as it has verbs, grammar rules etc. 

[1] – Estel coia: Estel lives. Estel refers to the person; coia is the present form of coi- (to live). If anyone knows a more accurate way of saying this, please e-mail me (queen_bdanya@hotmail.com).

[2] – Ada: this is not from The Grey Company's elvish. It means 'father', as I have seen on numerous fics here on ff.net.


	3. Of Hobbits and Swordplay

Bound by Fate

Disclaimer: I own nothing, and I'm broke. Obviously, I am earning nothing on this fanfic.

A/N: Thanks to all those who reviewed! I really appreciate it (and would really appreciate more), especially those that give constructive criticism or points to ponder. 

Frodo Skywalker: There will be plot twists involving Faramir later, but he will not be evil. Don't worry, I'm not _that_ horrible.

 Elven Archer Tiniwiel: I feel sorry for the elves too! But I didn't think it would be appropriate to have them cheerfully singing in a dungeon. If you have any ideas on how to free them, tell me and I'll see what I can do.

Chapter 3: Of Hobbits and Swordplay 

            The whip cracked cruelly above the heads of the already industrious workers. "Let's you, you lazy piles of crap! We need two thousand more done by nightfall!" the overseer called.

            "Two thousand! We'll never get that done by sunset!" a young hobbit with light brown hair muttered as he toiled over his work. The whip cracked again, catching him in the shoulder. "Ouch!" he cried, gritting his teeth as he heard the overseer laugh. 

            "We don't tolerate counterproductive talk around here!" the overseer called loudly enough for the whole factory to hear him. "And because of Samwise Gamgee's remark, no lunch!" the other hobbits, still hard at work, glared at Sam.

            A gentle hand placed itself on his shoulder. "Don't worry Sam. That just means we'll have more time to finish these," a hobbit with darker brown hair, Frodo Baggins, told him. "Have you made up any more tales or songs, Sam?" he asked.

            Sam shook his head. "No, I had a horrible nightmare about these stupid chain-mail shirts. Putting together ring, after ring, after ring, while that whip was whipping me. And then the whip became a snake, and then…" 

            "Enough, enough!" cried Merry as Pippin, the youngest of the four friends, shook his head vigorously. "How about a cheerful chain-mail story, like how the gleam of the metal is like the shine of the stars, or something poetic like that," he suggested. 

            Merry's comment seemed to upset Pippin even more. "I don't remember the stars, Merry," he sighed sadly. He had been about three years old when they had all been taken to Minas Tirith, and had very few memories of anything except the factory. "What do they look like?" he asked, curiously.

            Sam was the first to reply. "They are beautiful twinkling lights, bright silver on the black night sky. Some make shapes, if you look hard enough!" he told Pippin. Then, quieter, he added, "And you'll see them one day, from the Shire."

            "Until then, we have to amuse ourselves with these walls…" Pippin lamented. The other hobbits looked around at the factory.

            From the outside, it appeared to be a dark grey multi-levelled building on the edges of the city. Most citizens never knew what it was for. The inside, however, was a different story. The main part, and first floor, of the building was a vast factory. Armour was made there by captured dwarves on one half, while leather gear and chain mail was manufactured by hobbits on the other side. There were only two other areas in the building: the kitchen and eating area, on the second floor, and living quarters on the third. They slept on bunk beds, two hobbits on the top bunk, one dwarf on the bottom. The bed itself was a slab of wood with a rough wool blanket thrown over top. 

            "What sort of rules do they have here?" an unfamiliar male voice asked from behind the four hobbits. They turned and looked to see a Man, dressed in the garb of an overseer, looking around.

            The head overseer was next to him. "They can talk, just nothing treasonous or counterproductive. One bathroom break a day, and no more than a skin of water a day. You'll be told on a day-by-day basis how many of what have to be finished. We're working on a big order right now, refitting the High Guard. Two thousand need to be done by the end of the day. We have 500 hobbits, four at each table, which means four shirts per hobbit. You'll start with one table to watch, to see if you figure it out. If any one of them gives you trouble, use the whip. Any big trouble, call me. Think you can handle that… what was your name again?" the overseer asked.

            "My name's Strider. And yes, I think that I can handle that," the new man said as the overseer walked away. He smiled at the hobbits as they stared at him. "Hello, I'm Strider," he said in a solemn voice. "What are your names?" They all looked away, not used to a Man talking to them about something not work-related. Merry pointed to the back to his chair, indicating the nametags. "Okay, so you're… Meriadoc, Peregrin, Samwise, and Frodo. How many shirts have you made today?" he asked.

            "Still working on the first one… and it's Merry, Pippin, and Sam," Frodo told Strider. Suddenly he started coughing, holding a hand over his mouth. Strider watched as Sam rubbed Frodo's back and Pippin pulled out his water-skin, opening it and handing it to Merry, who prepared to give it to Frodo. 

            Strider gasped when Frodo's hand came away from his mouth covered in tiny specks of blood. "Have you seen a healer about that?" he asked, handing a handkerchief to him.

            "We don't have any healers here, Mr. Strider. They think that if we're sick, then we'll either get better on our own, or die. If we die then they think that they just need stronger workers," Sam told him, while Frodo cleaned his hand off and took a drink. 

            "Hmm… I'll see what I can do about getting you something to help sooth the coughing," Strider said.

            As all of the hobbits went back to working, Pippin casually said, "Sam, why don't you sing something for us." It was a suggestion, not an order, and Sam ruffled Pippin's hair affectionately.

            "Of course I will, Pippin. There was this one song that I heard, it was sung by a prisoner. Want me to sing that?" he asked. When everyone gave a nod of approval, Sam began. 

_A Elbereth Gilthoniel,_

_silivren penna míriel_

_o menlel aglar elenath!_

_Na-chaered palan-díriel_

_o galadhremmin ennorath,_

_Fanuilos, le linnathon_

_nef aear, sí nef aearon!_

            At the end of the song, the overseer rushed over. "What do you think you were doing!" he yelled at the hobbits, not knowing which of them sang. "Which one of you were singing that horrible song!" he was red in the face and was clutching his whip tightly. Turning to Strider her asked angrily, "Why didn't you stop them?"

            Strider looked confused to the hobbits. "What do you mean, why didn't I stop them? They were only singing. Isn't that their language?" he asked innocently. 

            "That was Elvish! Which of you was it?" he asked again of the hobbits. "Answer me!"

            Not willing to let the others be punished for his singing, Sam raised his hand. He quickly noted, however, that the other three had raised their hands as well; they were all unwilling to see Sam punished alone. "We all did," Frodo said as defiantly as he could manage.

            The overseer gave an evil smirk. "Want to do the same things that elves do, huh? Well, I can arrange that." He went to the official paperwork desk and wrote a note, then sealed it with wax. When he same back he said, "I got a new job for you, Strider. Take these four to the palace dungeons, and give the guard this note. Stay until the High Guard is refitted, and tell me if they need any adjustments, spares, or the like. Understand?"

            Strider nodded. "Easy enough, they don't look like they could put up much of a fight. Any special transportation needs?" he asked, looking at the four.

            "Chain them up and walk them there. They shouldn't cause too much trouble. Take your whip just in case, though," the overseer told him.

~*~

            Legolas was soon taken to Boromir's room, after many struggles and a few broken noses on the part of the guards. As he was thrust into the room, he stumbled and fell onto his face. "Master Elf," called a familiar voice from a table in the corner. "I wondered when you would get here." It was Boromir. He sat at a table with two chairs; one occupied, the other pulled out, and was snacking from a platter of food. Legolas looked around for a weapon of some sort, but could find none. "Come, sit down. We have much to discuss," he said, gesturing to the chair.

            Legolas warily sat down. "The only thing we have to 'discuss' is whether you set me free willingly, or if I have to kill you first," he growled.

            "Actually, it would be why you were in Gondor, and whom you were waiting for in the Drúadan forest," he retorted. "You're either very brave or very stupid to be found there," he added. "By the way, feel free to help yourself to the food."

            Legolas didn't answer Boromir's question; he munched thoughtfully on a carrot stick, wondering how long it had been since he had eaten. He asked a question of his own. "Do you know how many elves are dead or are dying in your dungeons right now?" he voice seemed distant as his thoughts drifted to his father, who would probably die down there.

            Boromir shrugged. "Don't know, and don't care. You realize that you are mine to do with what I will," he said confidently.

            "I belong to no one…" Legolas responded. His words seemed slower than usual and he felt extremely sleepy; he looked at Boromir accusingly, knowing that he had been drugged yet again. Boromir calmly walked over and picked him up, then took him into the bedroom. He was stripped of everything but his breeches and shackled to the bed. At that point, Legolas could no longer stay awake and embraced sleep.

            Boromir grinned. "Good thing he took a carrot. They were the only thing on that tray that were drugged," he said aloud, watching Legolas sleep. After a moment he got bored. _'I think I'll go down to the training fields and see if anyone there has some skill. I need a new sparring partner,'_ he thought to himself. 

~*~

            It took just over an hour to walk the hobbits to the palace. The guards gave Strider no trouble; in fact the sight of four hobbits in chains amused them. The head guard opened the letter and laughed. "What does it say, sir?" Strider asked.

            "Talks about how since they want to be like elves, they should live with them. No worries, they'll be treated the rest of the prisoners. You heading back to the factory?" the head guard asked, unshackling the hobbits and placing them into the dungeon. 

            Strider shook his head no. "I'm to wait until the High Guard is refitted. That way I can report back if they need any spares or alterations. Any idea what I can do until then? The order won't be finished until the end of the day," he explained, although he longed to take a look around the palace.

            After apprising Strider's appearance, the head guard replied, "A young recruit like you should probably spend some time on the training fields, honing his skills."

            "Thank you," he said, and then walked away. Once out of earshot he added, "Young recruit indeed…" He found the training fields easily, and kept watch of what the soldiers were doing. He was in luck; the High Guard itself had formed up on the field. He unsheathed his sword and began a few left-handed practice drills on a wooden dummy, still carefully watching the High Guard.

            "High Guard, attention!" a man's voice called. That man soon came walking out. He was dressed in what could only be the attire of a prince; Strider recognized him as Boromir by the shoulder long dirty-blonde hair. He inspected the troops, and seemed to be very dissatisfied. Stepping out in front of the guards, he yelled, "You are _supposed_ to be the High Guard of Gondor, but you can't even dress yourselves in the morning! And you want me to believe your assurances that you will eliminate the elves and the Rangers? Ridiculous!" He paced a few times, then stopped and drew his sword. "Who is your best swordsman?" he asked, a ferocious gleam in his eye.

            There was silence for a few moments, but then one man raised his hand. "I am, my Prince," he said nervously. By this time everyone on the training field had stopped to watch the spectacle. The man who raised his hand stepped out of ranks and bowed to the prince. After moving a few feet from the body of troops, and incidentally a few feet closer to Strider, he drew his sword, saluted with it, and dropped into a defensive position. 

Boromir went onto the attack immediately. He cared nothing for whether or not he harmed the man he sparred with. The man soon fell backwards, smacking his back against the training dummy that Strider had been using. Strider couldn't help but laugh at the fallen man before helping him up. "Is there something funny?" Boromir asked, scowling at Strider.

Strider was stunned. _'I didn't mean to personally meet him so soon,'_ he worried. _'Nothing I can do about it now, though,'_ he realized. "Yes, my Prince," he said bowing. "There is."

Boromir grabbed him by the shirt. "And what, pray tell, would that be?" he growled.

"That I could probably best the man that said he was the best swordsman of the High Guard," he replied quickly, with no trace of humour in his voice.

Boromir was stunned. "You? Best him? You are but a mere recruit. However, I am willing to remove that arrogance from you, even if I must beat you to a pulp to do so," he said. All of the men on the field cheered, thinking that their prince was going to provide them with entertainment.

As he raised his sword, purposely leaving it in his left hand, Strider smirked. "I think you'll be pleasantly surprised, _my Prince_," he commented, sarcasm dripping from his voice at the end. Anticipating that Boromir wouldn't be used to his own troops trying to harm him, he immediately attacked. 

Boromir had barely raised his sword before he was forced to block Aragorn's first attack. A second, a third, and then a fourth attack quickly followed the first before he managed to switch from defensive to offensive. Even on the offensive, Boromir seemed to be ineffective. All of his moves had been somehow anticipated and dodged. 

After ten minutes of hard sparring Strider disarmed Boromir and placed both swords at Boromir's throat. "Do you give?" he asked, enjoying the stunned look on the prince's face. Boromir nodded and Strider gave him his sword back. Then, as he turned and began practicing with the dummy, he said, "By the way, I'm right-handed."

Boromir was furious. "Everybody, get off of this field! Now!" he shouted. He heard men running to follow his order. Strider, of course, turned to leave, but he stopped the strange man from leaving. "Who are you?" Boromir asked, stunned that a man of such potential, such talent, had only just joined Gondor's military. 

Strider sheathed his sword. "My name is Strider, my mother's name was Gilraen," he informed Boromir. 

"And what of your father? What is his name? And why did it take you this long to join the military?" Boromir asked quickly.

"I never knew my father. My mother came from Rohan, which is where I lived until now. She died a few weeks ago, and left me a letter explaining that my father was a man from Gondor. I decided that since my father was from Gondor, I should join the Gondorian army. I never expected that I would be at the palace, or in the presence of the Prince so quickly, though," Strider explained.

Boromir nodded. The story itself made sense so far. One thing had him wondering, though. "Who taught you how to use a sword?" he queried. "For he taught you quite well."

Strider smiled. "That was Uncle Halbarad. I don't know where he learned his skills from, but he taught me how to use a sword and a bow, sharpen a knife, light a fire, and ride a horse. He was like a father to me," he said. 

Boromir nodded. "I'd like to meet him someday. For now, I'd like you to be my personal guard. None of my guards have ever been able to best me with a sword before; it would be an enlightening experience. Perhaps you could teach me a few tricks," he suggested. 

Strider was stunned. His first full day in Minas Tirith and he was already being offered the position of the Prince's personal guard? It seemed both very optimistic and very suspicious. "I would be honoured, my Prince," he intoned, bowing deeply.

"Good. Now, where were you assigned? Your commander will need to be informed of your new status," Boromir said, beginning to leave the training fields. "You will also need new clothes, more suitable for a prince's guard," he added. Strider followed quickly.

~*~

            A/N – Happy Holidays, everyone! Hope you liked the new chapter. Gimli and Gandalf will appear at some later point; I'm not sure how to add them yet. Please review, input is always welcome! Flames will be used to feed my muse *looks pointedly at the several candles burning*. If anyone has any suggestions, especially about adding Gandalf and Gimli, e-mail me (queen_bdanya@hotmail.com). More soon, I promise! 


	4. Retelling History

Bound By Fate

A/N – You can thank Santa for this one. Not only did I receive _The Silmarillion_, _The Unfinished Tales_, The Two Towers soundtrack, and the Aragorn starter deck for the Lord of the Rings trading card game, but he also left a me a bar of chocolate as long as my keyboard!!!!!! *Laughs maniacally*this one is fuelled purely by sugar, everyone. Have fun!  **Warning: Faramir plot twist ahead**

*Please note there will be many references (or quotes) from Appendix B (The Tale of Years) that is found at the end of The Return of the King. You'll understand when you read it* 

{This is talking in elvish when I am too lazy to have it written in proper elvish}

Responses to Reviewers: (3 reviewers! Yay!)

Tira – Thanks for the review, hope you keep reading.

Frodo Skywalker (2nd time reviewing) – Again, I'm not _that_ evil (but I shall foreworn of plot twists as they occur), and due to the rating, this is not a fic with smut. 

Cookiesandcreme – The Fellowship _will_ form, although you're going to have to wait for me to make it to find out how. 

To both of you: Now, if I told you where the Ring is (and who/what/if anyone) has it, it would rob me of a possible chapter! You'll have to wait to find out. ;-) And now, on to the fic!

Chapter 4 – Retelling History 

Legolas had woken up from the light sedative and was now extremely mad. "Once that son-of-a-bitch gets back in here, I'm going to rip out his tongue and wear it as a belt!" he shouted angrily, pulling at his bonds. He had noticed the first time that he pulled at the chains that the ones at his feet moved, and that they were only attached to the bedposts. Now he had taken to a strict regime of swearing angrily as he pulled at the chains, taking a break, and then repeating the previous actions. So far, he had had no luck at freeing himself, but it made him feel better to try. He heard the door to the anteroom open and close, followed by two voices and he stopped his actions. 

            "I found a rather interesting trophy on my last assignment," he heard Boromir's voice say. "It's actually rather amusing."

            Then another voice, one that was strangely familiar, responded, "What sort of trophy? A weapon of some sort?"

Boromir's laugh was heard clearly through the door leading into the bedroom. "No, much better than a weapon. Have a look, it's in the bedroom," the false prince stated.

The door open and Legolas glared at it. His glare turned into a look of shock when he saw whom it was. Strider gasped as he saw what was in the bedroom, chained to the bed. "It's… an Elf!" he exclaimed to Boromir. "Where did you say you caught it?" While he waited for Boromir to respond he mouthed, 'Legolas?' Legolas nodded, acknowledging that it was indeed he. 

Boromir stepped through the door and took a careful look at Legolas. "In the Drúadan Wood. I'm sure you have heard about the Rangers and the elves that have been attacking Gondor?" he questioned. When Strider nodded, he said, "That is where they have been hiding. Hopefully this one has some useful information."

Strider nodded. "You realize that the longer he is bound, the less likely he is to tell you what you want to know?" he asked. 

Boromir looked at him in surprise. "What are you talking about? How else do you expect me to control it?" he responded in a confused tone. 

Aragorn moved to the side of the bed and seemed to examine Legolas, winking slightly so that Legolas would understand what he was doing. "Elves don't cope with such captivity well. In fact, this one is already willing itself from this plane of existence. You can lengthen the amount of time you have to question it by not keeping it bound with chains," he explained. When Boromir gave him a look of confusion he made up a quick explanation. "My Uncle Halbarad also taught me a lot about elves. Physiology, languages, and such."

            Boromir looked on Strider with new respect. "Oh really? How do you propose we keep it in one place, without chaining it?" he asked, amused that not only was the recruit talented with a sword, but he was also versed in many elvish things. 

            Strider appeared to look around the room for a minute. "Are there any weapons in here? Or important documents?" he asked. Boromir shook his head no, so Strider offered, "Then if you simply posted guards outside and let him roam in here, he would feel free enough to not fade as quickly. You would have to make sure that he couldn't hurt himself, of course," he finished. 

            Boromir tossed him the keys to the shackles that held the elf to the bed. "That sounds reasonable enough. Unlock him."

            Strider caught the keys easily and moved to unshackle Legolas. As he leaned over Legolas, he murmured loud enough for only Legolas to hear, "Attack me." He finished unshackling him, and Legolas obliged Strider's command: he immediately pounced on the dark-haired Man, pushing him to the ground and giving him a hard punch to the jaw. Strider flipped them over and slapped Legolas, mentally apologizing for it. "Don't try that again, elf, or you will get far worse than a slap." Strider stood up, which Legolas quickly did as well. He advanced on Strider's back, knowing that this was a mere act to help Strider earn Boromir's trust. "Havo dad!" Strider cried, turning around. 

            Legolas immediately sat; stunned that Strider would use Sindarin openly around Boromir. Boromir laughed. "I see it understands commands in its language. Perhaps you could help me train it to behave properly," he suggested with a smirk. 

            Before Strider could answer, however, there was a loud banging on the door. A servant came in, panting heavily. "My prince, you are being summoned for an immediate meeting with the King. You must hurry; his mood is most foul," The servant said quickly, before leaving just as fast. 

            Boromir groaned. "Not again…" He looked over at Strider for a moment. "You stay here with the elf. I will return shortly. With that, he left. 

            Strider watched to make sure that Boromir had left and turned to Legolas. "How did you get here? Where were you, why were you anywhere near this place?" he asked in a rush, not sure how long they would be alone. 

            Legolas sighed. "This is my first day here. I was captured in the Drúadan Forest while sending word that you were in Gondor. _Prince_ Boromir seems to think that I'm his personal possession. I don't know why, but it's rather disturbing. I've discovered how they keep the citizens from finding out the truth, though," he said at the end. "They simply don't tell anyone. Boromir thinks that the elves have been at war for many years. I doubt he even knows of the Last Alliance."

            Strider sighed. "He would not believe you if you told him the truth, and it would make him think that I'm a traitor. So, how are we going to let him know?" he asked.

            "I don't know," Legolas conceded, shaking his head. "Do you know anything of the surrounding area that is of use? The people, the culture…" his voice trailed off as he lost himself in a memory. "… The dungeons," he murmured. "I forgot to tell you. Estel, my father and Lord Elrond are locked up in the dungeons below us!" Legolas cried. He seemed distressed, even to Strider.

            Strider himself was lost in thought at that point. "I was ordered to put the hobbits in there. Perhaps we could make a plan to get them all out of there, to free them all," he suggested. 

            Legolas looked up. "How? I am locked in these chambers, and you will be either with the Prince or on official duties. Neither of us have the freedom of movement to make such plans, and…" Legolas trailed off and tilted his head to one side. "He is outside the door. Do whatever you must to prevent him from discovering your identity," he stated calmly. Strider nodded and went to the large window in the room, pretending to be lost in thought.

~*~

            The meeting wasn't truly a meeting; rather, it was a brutal ten minutes in which both princes and all of the ranking military officers had been cursed at and berated for not managing to stop the clandestine meetings that were supposedly happening. As Boromir walked back towards his rooms, rubbing his eyes, he bumped into an old man coming out of the library. Several books fell to the floor, and Boromir quickly bent to pick them up. "Thank you, kind prince," the elderly fellow in loose robes said, turning and quickly leaving. 

            Looking again at the floor, he saw a book bound in grey leather. "Wait, you forgot…" he began, but the old man was gone. Boromir picked it up and wiped the dust from the cover, only to find that the title was in elvish. Deciding for some unknown reason to bring it with him, he continued to his rooms. When he entered, he found Strider staring out of the window and the Elf glaring at Strider. "Did you find out anything useful from the elf?" he asked. 

            Strider looked at Boromir and grinned. "His name is Legolas, and he has quite the vocabulary of swear words," he said. "How was the meeting?"

            "Horrible!" he sighed as he sat heavily in a chair. "You said that you read elvish?" he asked of Strider. Strider nodded in reply. "Could you read this to me?" he said as he handed the book to his guard. 

            Strider looked at the book for a moment before reading the title out loud. "The Tale of Years: Chronology of the Westlands. Written by the hand of Turgon, Steward of Gondor," he read smoothly, and then flipped through a few of the pages. "My Prince, this is a history book. Do you want me to read all of it, or just passages?" 

            Boromir thought for a minute. "Just passages will be fine."

            Strider nodded. "The Second Age. These were the dark years for Men of Middle-Earth, but the years of the glory of Númenor. Of events in Middle-Earth the records are few and brief, and their dates often uncertain. [1]" He skipped ahead a bit and read, "Circa year 500: Sauron begins to stir again in Middle-Earth. Circa year 1000: Sauron, alarmed by the growing power of the Númenoreans, chooses Mordor as a land to make into a stronghold. He begins the building of Barad-Dûr.  Year 1200: Sauron endeavours to seduce the Eldar. Gil-Galad refuses to treat with him; but the smiths of Eregion are won over. Circa 1500: The Elven-smiths instructed by Sauron reach the height of their skill. They begin forging the Rings of Power. Circa 1590: The Three Rings are completed in Eregion. Circa 1600: Sauron forges the One Ring in Orodruin. He completes the Barad-Dûr. Celebrimbor perceives the designs of Sauron. 1693: War of the Elves and Sauron begins. The Three Rings are hidden." Strider paused to take a breath. 

Boromir seemed fairly calm, as though he knew all of this already. Strider continued. "3429: Sauron attacks Gondor, takes Minas Ithil and burns the White Tree. Isildur escapes down Anduin and goes to Elendil in the North. Anárion defends Minas Anor and Osgiliath. 3430: Last Alliance of Men and Elves is formed. 3434: The host of the Alliance crosses the Misty Mountains. Battle of Dagorlad and defeat of Sauron. Siege of Barad-Dûr begins. 3441: Sauron overthrown by Elendil and Gil-Galad, who perish. Isildur takes the One Ring. Sauron passes away and the Ringwraiths go into the shadows. The Second Age ends," Strider concluded. 

"What is that rubbish? That is not the way it happened at all!" Boromir cried. "That is the biggest piece of traitorous garbage I have ever laid my eyes on!" 

Strider looked up at him and asked, "Where did this come from? It is certainly old enough to be authentic, and it bears not only your great-grandsire's name, but the seal of the Stewards as well. If it is a forgery, then it is the best forgery I have ever laid eyes upon!" 

Legolas grinned from his perch on the bed. "That is because it _is_ authentic. That is how events actually happened, not as one Steward saw fit to see it. "Shall I continue? For me it is not history, it is events that occurred in my life. Such as Isildur, who was King, being killed by Orcs who were trying to get the One Ring," he stated. 

"You know nothing, Elf! You fought against Lord Sauron, you…" Boromir could get no further before Legolas cut him off.

"Yes, I fought against the Dark Lord, and I am proud to have done it. I am proud to have fought alongside Men who knew their real history," he stated, standing up.

Strider put up his hand to stop them both. "Where did this book come from?" he asked again of Boromir. 

"An old man dropped it," Boromir replied, "as he came out of the library." He looked at the elf with its treacherous smirk, and the man he had just taken to be his personal guard whose face showed only the utmost concern. 

"Do you know of any other books like this? Old books, with the Steward's seal?" Strider persisted. He flipped through the book in his hand, nearly dropping it when he saw something potentially valuable. "It is a journal of Isildur's. It reads, 'Year 3434 of the Second Age. Here follows the account of Isildur, High King of Gondor and the finding of the ring of power. It has come to me, the One Ring. It shall be the heirloom of my kingdom. All that who should follow in my bloodline shall be bound to its fate for I will risk no hurt to the ring. It is precious to me, though I buy it with a great pain. The markings upon the band begin to fade. The writing, which at first was as clear as red flame, has all but disappeared, a secret now that only fire can tell.[2]' This is both very old and very valuable," Strider told Boromir, handing him the leaflet of paper. 

Boromir didn't want to believe a word that either of them was saying, but he could not deny that the sheet he held in his hand was written the same way that Strider had read it, and that it bore the seal of the High King. "I do not trust elvish books," he said simply.

Strider was the first to agree. "Nor do I. We all know that elves cannot be trusted, my prince. Perhaps we should go to the library and disprove him?" he suggested calmly.

Boromir nodded, his mind still trying to process the information. "Of course. If there is anything that would disprove the elf, it would be in the library. We will go there immediately." Strider nodded and left with Boromir.

Legolas was left alone again, and began thinking about the dungeons again. "We must free them," he murmured to himself. "But we need a high-ranking collaborator." '_Boromir,'_ he realized with a start. '_If we could show Boromir that he has been living a lie, perhaps he will help us!_' A noise at the door to the chambers startled him. 

When the door opened, Legolas gave a small scream of panic. It was Sauron! "Boromir? Boromir, are you in here?" he called, paying little heed to the elf who had hidden beside the bed. Finally he turned his attention to Legolas. "Hello there. Do you know where Boromir is?" he asked, seeming almost friendly.

Legolas peered up at him. The dirty blonde hair and facial features were the same as he had seen before, but his eyes were different: instead of being black, they were a piercing blue. Also, the black cloak he had been wearing had disappeared. "He… he went to the library with Strider…" he said softly, not moving. It was one thing to face a Dark Lord with a bow and blades (not to mention an army of elves) with you; it was another thing to face him alone in a bedroom. 

The intruder smiled. "Thank you for your help, little one," he said calmly before turning and leaving. Legolas sat there, staring at the door, until Strider and Boromir returned. 

~*~

Boromir led Strider to the library at an almost furious pace. When they got inside, Boromir sighed in exasperation. "There are so many books! How will we know where to look?" he asked, glancing at all of the shelves.

Strider admitted mentally that it was an expansive library, but refused to let himself worry about it. "Is there an area where the books written by Kings and Stewards are kept?" he asked.

Boromir looked around again. "I do not know. I have always been told what titles I need to find, and on which shelves to find them. I have no idea how to find obscure items," he admitted. "My brother, Faramir, would be much better at this sort of thing."

"Perhaps you know where the librarian is?" Strider asked. Boromir thought for a moment and pointed to a large desk that had a pile of books stacked on it. Strider walked over and rang a small bell that sat in front of the pile. "Is there anyone here?" he called.

"Quiet down, you hooligan! Don't you know this is a library?" an old voice replied in a harsh whisper from the other side of the mountain of books. An old, wizened man in dull brown robes stepped around the desk. "Now, how can I help you?" he asked.

"Prince Boromir and I have come in search of books, old ones, possibly written by former Stewards and Kings," Strider explained. 

The librarian nodded his head. "Do you know any titles, or do I have to guess what you're looking for?" he asked.

Strider handed him the book and said, "Similar to this. Very old, very dusty, and probably not looked at very often."

The librarian's face turned from a scowl into a grin. "Now _this_ is truly a find. Yes, I know where these books are. Put them on a shelf all their own. Not everyday that the heir to the throne wants to look at these books. These were before the Great Change, yes indeed!" he said, giving Strider a knowing look. He then looked at Boromir. "You read elvish, Prince?" he asked.

Boromir was stunned. "No, I don't. Strider read this to me. What was the Great Change? And what is your name?" he asked. 

The librarian headed towards the back of the library. "My name is Radagast. The Great Change was when the Stewards became Kings. Not many remember it now, but I do! I'm an old man, older than you would expect, young one. Yes, indeed, that was when Ecthelion the second decided that Gondor should not have to wait for the kings to return and proclaimed that he was King," he said, as though he were explaining little-known trivia. "That was in 2759, just after Turgon, son of Turin died. I was just a little boy then, had no idea what was going on. We aren't supposed to say stuff like that because it's supposedly treason. But since the Prince himself asked me to, I don't see the problem," he added. "Ah! Here we are, the special bookshelf," he announced. 

Boromir looked at him in disbelief. "How old are you, old man?" he asked, knowing that it had been quite a while since Gondor was attacked. 

"Honestly can't remember, my Prince," he announced. "You should find everything you need here. If you need help, just come and ask," he said in an almost cheery voice. 

Boromir looked at the shelves. "Where do we start?" he asked, gesturing at the large bookshelf. Thinking for a moment, he answered his own question. "If the Stewards became Kings, then we should be looking for a family tree. I've never seen my own family tree before, so we could look for that," he suggested.

Strider smiled. "That's the spirit, my Prince!" he said, starting to look through the shelves. "Your family tree would be in Westron, not elvish. That will narrow down the search a bit," he stated, looking through the shelves. 

Boromir was the first to find something. "I found it!" he cried, pulling out a long black book. "The line of Mardil Voronwë, first Ruling Steward of Gondor," he read from the dusty cover. He opened the book and, with Strider's help, spread the rather large chart inside open.  By this point Boromir knew that someone had told him the wrong version of history, and the old man's simple words had a ring of truth to them. 

Strider carefully looked at the chart in front of him. "This has the Steward's seal on it, but it goes no further than Ecthelion II. He is your kin, correct?" he asked the Prince, keeping all triumph from his voice.

Boromir's eyes were clouded with confusion. "Yes, it is, but he was a King, not a Steward. I am unsure of what to think of this. Have you found any other documents?" he asked. Strider shook his head as he folded up the chart and placed it back on the shelf.

"Brother, what are you doing in the library?" a voice asked. Strider looked over and saw a man who looked strikingly similar to Boromir. He had shoulder-length dirty blonde hair and bright blue eyes. "You have never been much of a reader."

Boromir smiled and embraced him. "Well, Faramir, I decided to see what captivated you so much in this musty old place. Actually, I was looking for you and thought you might be in here. How are you feeling?"

Faramir wriggled out of the embrace. "Other than a headache, I am quite well. You didn't tell me you had a woman in your room. She is quite timid," he commented.

Boromir's face showed puzzlement. "I have no woman in my room… Oh! You must be talking about the elf. He certainly does look female, although I wouldn't characterize him as timid. What did he do?" he asked. He noticed how Strider was paying attention to the conversation while pretending to pay attention to the books.

"He hid next to the bed the whole time I was in there," Faramir informed him. "He seemed to be terrified of me!" he said, laughing.

Boromir began laughing, inwardly wondering why the violent elf would be frightened of Faramir. '_In the throne room, when I first brought him into Minas Tirith,_' he realized with a start. '_I'm going to need to explain that to him,_' he determined. "I gave him a drug to make him more obedient. I suppose that it didn't work on him properly. Oh well, it will wear off," he explained in an offhand manner. 

Faramir furrowed his brow. "You shouldn't go around drugging creatures like that. Elves are supposed to be very intelligent, it's not humane to drug them," he commented. 

"It is a good thing father is not here, Faramir," he said solemnly, "for he would have you arrested for treason." Faramir winced slightly and held his head. "Are you alright, brother?" he asked, grasping the younger man's elbow.

Faramir groaned. "I'll be fine. I just need to go rest…" his voice trailed off as Boromir helped him to sit in a chair. "Could you get my guard? He's talking with Radagast," he mumbled. 

Strider went to get the guard (who didn't seem very surprised at being summoned), and quickly brought him back to Faramir. The guard lifted him gently and left the library. "What was all that about?" Strider asked. 

Boromir sighed. "I will explain it to you later. It must also be explained to the Elf," he said simply. The two spent the rest of the day (and some of the night) in the library. They found many other documents proving that what had been in the elvish book, as well as what Legolas had claimed, were correct. Boromir, although his head hurt horribly from questioning everything he had ever known, was willing to admit that he had been horribly wrong. They were both exhausted by the time that they returned to Boromir's quarters. 

They found Legolas by a window, staring at the stars. He turned and looked at the two. "Well?" he asked impatiently.

Boromir looked Legolas straight in the eyes. "You were right, Legolas. I apologize for the way I have been treating you," he said sincerely. "I had no idea that any of this had happened. We must now try to find a way to right this damage," he added.

Strider nodded. "There are many things that have yet to be told. Are you willing to trust Legolas and I, with your life if need be?" Strider asked.

"And can we trust you with ours?" Legolas added, knowing what strider was about to do. 

Boromir nodded. "Of course. I will do anything at all to free Middle-Earth of Sauron's evil and bring the King back to his rightful throne," he said, but quickly added, "as soon as we find the rightful king, that is."

Strider stretched himself up to full height. "There are still many secrets to come out. I hid some of the truth when I told you of my parentage. I never knew my father, for Orcs killed him when I was two years old. However, I know who he was: he was Arathorn, son of Arador, and chief of the Dúnedain. My family is of the line of Elendil; I am the heir of Isildur, and it is my birthright to claim the throne of Gondor," he said.

Boromir's face blanched and he sat down heavily on the bed. "You… you are the heir to the throne?" he asked, almost breathlessly. "The Dúnedain are the Rangers, aren't they?" he asked. Strider nodded to the first question. 

Legolas laughed and answered the second. "Yes, they are one and the same. I was in the Drúadan Forest telling the other Rangers that their leader was in Gondor, and to watch for him. I did not lie to you when I said that I was talking to the trees; you missed the meeting by several hours, and the forest was telling me much of your army," he announced.

Strider put his hand on Boromir's shoulder. "Are you alright with all of this?" he asked quietly. 

Boromir exhaled noisily, then put on the straight face he used during important meetings. "This has been a lot for me, and I'll admit that it hasn't really sunk in yet. Now that you have given me information, I will give you the same in return. Legolas, the man who came into my room while you were alone was my brother Faramir," he stated.

Legolas looked at him as though he had just turned into an orc. "That is not possible, both you and your father addressed him as Sauron in the throne room earlier," he replied. "His eyes were different when he came in here, but it was the same face."

Boromir nodded. "Sauron is still not strong enough to take a physical body, but he has learned how to possess a body. He chose Faramir because of his mind. His mind is stronger than mine, but he doesn't have the will that I do. Therefore, he was easy to take control of, but has more than enough knowledge to be a valuable tool," he explained. "He will seem very trustworthy when he is Faramir, and he normally would be, except for the fact that Sauron has access to all of Faramir's knowledge. We cannot trust him," he concluded. 

"Who can we trust?" Legolas asked, sitting on the ledge of the window. "I know we can trust those in the dungeons, but that won't get us very far," he said simply.

"Each other," Aragorn said, "or else all of this will become the greatest disaster ever."

Boromir thought carefully. "Certainly not any of the guards in Minas Tirith, or my father, or the council… perhaps the librarian. He gave us useful information," he said, waiting for the approval of the others.

Aragorn quickly agreed with him. "Yes, he could be trusted. Old Radagast seems to know more than he lets on. And as for the ones in the dungeons, perhaps they have heard things that the guards have said. They may still be able to help in some way," he told Legolas. 

"We will go down there tomorrow," Boromir said. "But first, we need to sleep. None of us will do Middle Earth any good tripping over our eyelids," he joked. 

Aragorn looked around. "There is only one bed, Boromir. Where do you propose we sleep?" he asked. 

{I am _not_ sleeping with that Man, Aragorn. I'd rather face all of the armies of Mordor alone then be in a bed with him,} Legolas said in a menacing tone, glaring at Boromir.

Boromir looked at Legolas and was startled by the look the elf was giving him. "I have no idea what you said, but I hope it wasn't a plan to kill me in my sleep," he said humourlessly.

Aragorn quickly diffused the situation. "He merely doesn't wish to share a bed with you. There are many… horrible tales… about Elves that share beds with Men," he said calmly.

Legolas looked at Aragorn with a look of disgust. "Actually, it is because he cannot control his body. I was in front of him on the horse when I was brought here; there was something hard poking into my back the whole time, and it _wasn't_ his sword," he clarified. 

Boromir sighed. "My apologies, Master Elf, I was thinking about a woman, not you," he said. "There is a cot in the anteroom. You may use that if you like," he offered. "But that is all: one bed, one cot. Accommodation enough for a prince and his guard."

Legolas resumed looking at the stars. "I think I will sleep here. There stars are calming for me, and I doubt sleep will come to me tonight," he said. "Aragorn, you take the cot. We should make it look like everything is normal, lest someone think that the prince and his guard are traitors," he reasoned.

With the sleeping arrangements settled, the two Men set out readying themselves for bed, with Aragorn soon disappearing into the anteroom; Legolas did not move from his perch. "Legolas, you are going to need to change into nightclothes. If the guards come in to check one me, it would not seem normal for one of my slaves to be both fully dressed and out of bed," he told the Elf. 

"I have no nightclothes," Legolas replied, "because we so often have to move in the night to stay alive that it is not practical. We stay fully dressed unless bathing." Boromir left for a moment, but returned quickly, dropped a nightshirt into his lap, and crawled into bed. Legolas quickly changed (making sure that Boromir didn't watch), and returned to the window. The two men slept easily through until morning, while Legolas, as he had predicted, found no sleep. 

A/N – Wow, that was fast. That bit about Legolas thinking that Boromir was a pervert was inspired totally by Frodo Skywalker's comments. See, reviewers DO get what they want! So review, and see your ideas become part of the fic! 

1 – from here on, all dates, times, and family relations came from the appendices! I didn't change who was related to whom, or when things happened. Read your appendices! They are VERY useful!

2 – This is taken from a transcript that I found on the net of the movie. It is the voice over of Gandalf reading the sheet of paper in Minas Tirith. 


	5. The Prince's Plan

Bound by Fate

Disclaimer: I own nothing (although, I wish I did! J)

A/N: Thanks for the reviews that I've received! Now for the shout outs to the reviewers:

elven archer Tiniwiel - Yes, Radagast was there on purpose, and more will be explained about that later. Sorry for the lack of sewers, I came up with an idea before I read your review. 

Frodo Skywalker – More hobbits and more elves will be coming up. Also, Faramir will make another appearance, although not for a few chapters. 

Cookies and creme - Sorry that took so long. I'm really, really sorry! If you want my excuses here they are: homework, ISU's, exams, a car accident, and physiotherapy. I'll try to be faster with the next one.

Darragh Tieraneux – I'm glad you like it! Hope this update meets your expectations.

Aislynn – Wow! My longest review! Amazing! In fact, it's almost a critique… I was quite impressed. Gandalf will appear soon, but everyone will have to wait for Gimli (I actually have a plan now! J). Originally, I _was_ going to kill Thranduil, but I decided that it would be a waste of a perfectly good character (and besides, I don't want to have poor Legolas going insane… it would be very hard to write). For the whole Sauron thing, it's a twist that I felt I needed to make. He doesn't have the strength yet to get his body back (because he doesn't have the Ring), so he's sort of 'borrowing' Faramir's to suit his purposes. Faramir did not consent, and is not aware of the fact that Sauron is using him. Him being able to spy on Faramir's knowledge and thoughts is just a nifty side effect that will become important later. 

{This is Elvish, when I don't want to spend the time with translations}

Chapter 5: The Prince's Plan 

            Boromir woke to a hand shaking his shoulder. "Wake up, Boromir, it is sunrise," a light voice called to him. He tried to brush the hand off of him, but it persisted. "Wake up, False Prince," it called again.

            He cracked one eye open and saw that it was Legolas, who was already dressed in his slightly tattered clothes. "It's too early," he mumbled, rolling over. "Wake me in an hour," he murmured into his pillow. He felt the hands shoving against his side, moving him; he soon found himself on the floor. "What was that for?" he asked of the elf who had just shoved him out of his own bed.

            "It is time to get up and start planning. No one in Middle Earth except for you will benefit from you staying in bed," he stated. "Aragorn has arranged for breakfast to be brought to your room soon," he added, heading into the anteroom.

            Boromir got dressed quickly and joined Aragorn and Legolas in the anteroom, where he found a platter of food waiting. "Did anyone come up with any brilliant ideas during the night?" he asked, only half-kidding.

            "We will need some sort of cover. Something that your father will not question," Aragorn mused, munching thoughtfully on a piece of fruit.

            Legolas seemed to think for a moment. "We could pretend that I'm giving you the information that you want: when there will be a meeting of Elves and Rangers. Of course, there will be no meeting, but it would make a good cover. We need to find a way to get the captives out of the dungeons," he said, looking pointedly at Boromir. "You promised."

            "Yes, I promised. After we eat, we will go down there. But I will warn both of you right now: I will be pretending that everything is normal. If you do not act in a way that would be deemed appropriate, we will probably all be found out," Boromir said, glancing at Legolas. "Are you up to that?" he asked the elf.

            Legolas smirked. "You want me rebellious, or tamed? I've learned after many years of being chased by your people that I am a fantastic actor," he said, a touch of sarcastic humour in his tone.

            Aragorn responded faster than Boromir. "Tamed. That way it will be no shock when you are 'willing' to betray your people, as well as being allowed to walk around unchained," he explained. 

            "No self-respecting Elf would just submit to a Man, so we need to make me look the part. A couple of bruises, maybe even a split lip, would make it look believable," Legolas said. "Aragorn, you know the most about Elves. Hit me hard enough to bruise me, but not enough to break anything," he said, sounding almost like it was an order.

            Aragorn nodded and stood up. "I'm sorry," he said quickly, then punched Legolas twice: once in the eye and once in the jaw; he managed to give Legolas a black eye and a split lip. "Will that be sufficient? For I refuse to hit you again, _nîn_ _mellon_," he said as he sat back down. [My friend]

            Legolas dabbed some of the blood from his lip and nodded. "That will be just fine," he replied. He soon buried his hands in his hair, pulling loose the braids and making it look as though rough hands had handled it. "Now all I have to do is look submissive," he commented. 

            The three quickly finished making their plans and eating breakfast, then headed towards the dungeons. Legolas kept his head bowed, looking at his feet, while Boromir walked with his hand wrapped around Legolas' upper arm. Aragorn (who had reminded them before they left the room to call him 'Strider') walked a respectful pace behind, seeming to be the perfect guard. When they arrived, Boromir stepped up to the desk where the dungeon keeper was. "I need to go in there," he said.

            "That pretty Elf of yours giving you troubles, milord?" the keeper asked with a sneer, noting the bruise and the split lip. Legolas, playing his part perfectly, gave a startled whimper and hid behind Boromir.

            Boromir glared at him. "That is none of your business," he growled. "I will need two lanterns so that I can see," he ordered. The lanterns were prepared and the three conspirators headed in. "Okay, who is it we need to talk to?" 

            The Elves shied away from the light and the entire room went silent. Legolas looked around. "Elrond? _Ada_? Where are you?" Legolas asked quietly. [Father]

            A tall blonde Elf moved quickly towards them and wrapped his arms around Legolas. "Are you alright? How badly did he hurt you?" he asked, pulling Legolas away from Boromir. Unnoticed by Boromir another Elf, raven-haired, approached from behind them. 

            "_Ada_, I'm fine. It was Estel who did this to me, at my insistence, to make this façade look believable," he explained. "Are you better now?" he asked quietly. A nod was the only reply he received. As Legolas looked around, he noted that most of the Elves were at least sitting up. There were only several laying on the floor that were still fading. 

            "We have a plan to get you out of here, but we also need information from you. Legolas assured me that someone here named Elrond would know what to do," Boromir said quickly. 

            "What is it that Legolas thinks I know?" a quiet but stern voice asked from behind him. Boromir quickly turned around, and was shocked by the tall figure that had snuck up behind him.

            Aragorn stepped up to Elrond and quickly embraced him. "We have explained the situation to Boromir. He had been taught the wrong history, which explains his cruelty to Elves. He now wishes to set things right, to help overthrow the Dark Lord," he explained. 

            Thranduil looked up from the embrace he still shared with his son. "What proof do you have that you can trust him?" he asked, his voice full of contempt and mistrust.

            Aragorn sighed. "I told him of my ancestry last night. Considering that I am still alive, I think that we can trust him," he said, glancing nervously at Elrond. '_I hope he's not too mad,_' Aragorn thought.

            Elrond looked at Aragorn critically for a moment. "What possessed you to tell him such a thing?" he asked. "Were you certain beforehand that he would not betray you?"

            "We were certain. We found old documents in the library, written before the Change," Aragorn explained. "They showed that the Stewards became Kings through deceit and treachery."

            Elrond nodded his comprehension. "And now you want me to give you information. What sort of information do you need?" he queried, prepared to answer any question.

            "We need to know how to overthrown Sauron," Boromir stated without preamble. "Do you know anything that could help us?" he asked.

            Elrond nodded. "Sit down, for this is a long story. It spans over an age of this world," he explained. They all sat before Elrond continued. "It began at the beginning of this world. Sauron was a Maia who was corrupted by the words of Morgoth, the first Dark Lord, and became his lieutenant. After Morgoth was taken into captivity, Sauron re-emerged, using a form that was considered beautiful to sway people's minds. He had rings forged, the Rings of Power. Not many Men now remember the Verse of the Rings, but it is very relevant to your situation," he explained, and then recited,

Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,

                                    Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,

Nine for Mortal Men doomed to die,

                                    One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne

In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie.

                                    One Ring to rule the all, One Ring to find them,

                                    One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them

In the Land of Mordor where the Shadows lie. 

            Thranduil took this moment to break in with more of an explanation. "Each ring had a gem on it, except for the One Ring. The others were given away to the rulers of each race, meant to corrupt them with the lust for power," he commented factually. 

"The Nine in the rhyme belong to the Nazgûl, the Ringwraiths, who used to be great kings of Men. The rings worked on them, so now they serve Sauron, forever slaves to his will," Aragorn added. 

Elrond joined back into the conversation. "The One Ring was forged in the fires of Mount Doom; Sauron poured his malice and his cruelty into it, using a great deal of his power. Now he is bound to the Ring; if he gets it back, then all of Middle-Earth is doomed. Of the Seven the dwarves held, we know that Sauron possesses three, and that the other are lost or in dragon's hoards. The Three were never touched by Sauron's hand. They are… well, suffice it to say that they are accounted for, and well hidden from the Enemy," he said, somewhat vaguely at the last point.

"What of the One Ring? Where is that one?" Boromir asked impatiently.

"No one knows," Legolas said softly. "During the Battle of the Last Alliance, a Man named Isildur, who became King of Gondor, cut the Ring from Sauron's hand. Incidentally, that was how Sauron was overthrown the first time. Instead of destroying the Ring, however, Isildur fell to its lure and kept it. He was killed by Orcs on his way to Eriador, and from there none know where the Ring went," he explained. 

Elrond nodded at Legolas. "Which is exactly the problem that you face in trying to defeat Sauron. As long as the Ring exists, Sauron will exist. You will need to find the Ring and destroy it; once you destroy the Ring, Sauron's power will end," he explained. 

Boromir sighed, frustrated by the lack of information. "Then how are we supposed to find it? Do you even know what it looks like?" he asked.

Elrond nodded slowly. "The Three, the Seven, and the Nine each had their proper gem; the One, on the other hand, was a plain gold band. There are words inscribed on It, of course, but those are only visible after It is placed into fire," he explained.

"He… Sauron is looking for a plain gold ring. He said he lost it while battling Elves!" Boromir exclaimed, careful to keep his voice quiet. "Where was Isildur when he died?" he asked. "The Ring may still be there, waiting to be found," he suggested.

After searching his memory for a moment, Thranduil answered. "He was at the Gladden Fields. It probably fell into the Anduin; for all we know, it might be halfway across the Sea from here," he said. "You'll have to pass Dol Guldur to get there. It is a dangerous place, full of darkness. Make certain that you are armed before you pass that place. If you cannot find the Ring, you could rest in Mirkwood. The Old Forest Road is just to the north of there," he suggested.

"Or in Rivendell. The Old Forest Road runs east to west. The east leads to Mirkwood, but the west, over the High Pass, leads to Rivendell," Elrond added. 

Legolas looked over at Boromir. "How are we going to get everyone out of here?" he asked quietly.

Boromir looked over at Legolas and smirked. "I'm going to create a distraction. During the confusion, the door can be opened with this," he said, handing a knife hilt-first to Elrond, "by taking the pins out of the hinges. You'll hear a loud bang, and then the guards will probably start yelling and run away. Once you're out, you _must_ hurry, because there will not be much time. There are some old armouries down the hall, third door from the left. I'll make certain that it's unlocked. Disguise yourselves with the armour, and leave the palace immediately. Any questions?" he asked. 

No one except Aragorn nodded. "What sort of distraction do you have in mind?" he asked, slightly wary.

Another smirk graced Boromir's lips. "You know that black powder? I'm going to set a barrel of it off in an unused storage room near the throne room," he explained. "I'll leave a long enough fuse that it will take about an hour to go off. We'll be out of the city, and out of suspicion. And if the throne room is damaged, it'll be too bad. Father has no right to it, so he will have no right to be upset about it," he commented, his smirk widening to a smile.

Aragorn grinned. "I like the way you think. Alright, all of our plans have been laid. Now, we have to execute them. Let's go talk to your father, and tell him that your 'slave' is willing to betray his people," he said. 

"Wait!" a high-pitched voice called out. "What about us?" it asked, coming closer. As it approached, Aragorn recognized it as Pippin, one of the Hobbits he had brought from the factory. 

Aragorn thought for a moment. "We could return you to the factory on our way out of Minas Tirith," he suggested.

Another one of the hobbits, Sam, came towards them and shook his head. "We can't stay there. Could you take us somewhere outside of the city? We could head home from there," he added, smiling as he thought about returning home to the Shire. 

"Where is your home, little one?" Legolas asked. "If it is along the way, there should be no problem with you coming with us," he explained. 

Sam looked at the ground and mumbled, " 'Bout a hundred miles west of Bree." He looked up at Boromir. "We could get there ourselves, if you got us out of the city," he suggested hopefully.

Boromir smiled and ruffled Sam's hair. "Of course you can come with us. What are you doing in here anyways?" he asked. "I thought that all halflings were working in the factory."

Sam grumbled something inaudibly and Strider sighed. "I was told to bring them here because they started singing Elvish songs while working," he explained. "We could get them before we leave, saying that they are to be returned to the factory. Of course, they would never make it there…" he added, smiling at Sam.

Nodding, Boromir said, "Sounds good. We'll need to pack provisions, and have three horses…" his voice trailed off as he saw that the other two hobbits had crept up. "As well as four ponies waiting for use. Weapons, of course, in case of trouble. Daggers would serve as swords for the little ones; what is your weapon of choice, Legolas?" he asked, looking at the Elf.

"You took my weapons from me yourself," he responded. "My weapon of choice is my bow, although I am skilled with all of the weapons I carry," he continued. There was no trace of arrogance in his voice, only pride at his skills.

As Aragorn and Boromir discussed the plan further with Thranduil, Elrond beckoned for Legolas to come with him. {You are aware that the three Elven rings can track the One?} Elrond asked without preamble. Legolas merely nodded, uncertain why Elrond was mentioning this. {If you cannot find the One Ring, go to Rivendell, take Vilya, and use Vilya to track the One Ring,} he told Legolas, handing him a piece of folded parchment and a key on a string. {Show the paper to my sons, it will explain what I have asked of you. The key will open the box.}

Legolas shook his head. {I cannot take something so important as Vilya!} he exclaimed as he tried to hand the key and paper back to Elrond.

Sighing, Elrond drew himself up to his full height. {Just because you are not addressing me as Lord does not mean that I am no longer one. This is an order, Thranduillion. You _will_ obey,} he stated. "Now go back to the others, but tell them nothing of this," he said, moving so that he was standing with the group once again. [Thranduillion = son of Thranduil]

Legolas hastily put the key around his neck, under his clothes, and returned to the others. "Is there anything left to discuss?" he asked.

Aragorn and Boromir looked at each other for a moment before Aragorn nodded. "When we go to see Denethor… you will be expected to be leashed. Can you handle that?" he asked gently.

Legolas shook, remembering the last collar that Boromir had put on him, but stopped himself quickly. "I should be fine, as long as it is not too long," he stated. "For I know that no malice is meant by it," he added.

"Good," Boromir announced. "We're ready to go see my father."

~*~

After Legolas had been leashed, the three went to the throne room. Strider stood at the door, like a proper guard was supposed to. Legolas acted much like a trained animal, allowing Boromir to bring him in front of the throne. When they stopped, Legolas immediately fell to his knees and bowed his head in a gesture of submission. Boromir bowed slightly to his father. "I have excellent news, father. This _elf_," he said, pulling Legolas' chain slightly, "is willing to betray his people by leading me to the next meeting in the Drúadan Forest." There was pride in his voice, and his features were almost gleeful. Denethor would never be able to tell that Boromir was actually nervous.

Denethor's face lit up at the news. "Wonderful! I shall assign you an escort immediately, you shall leave at once," he ordered, preparing to send a page to gather the troops.

"No escort, father. That is the one condition that he has made," Boromir said firmly. 

Sighing, Denethor asked, "You would trust an Elf? It is probably lying!" he added. "It has probably arranged for you to be captured on the way."

"I have made no such plans, Your Majesty," Legolas said softly, his head still bowed. "Rangers and Elves never travel to meetings in more than groups of three, for it is far too dangerous to have large groups of us in one place," he explained. "Your son would be in more danger if he brought an escort," he added. 

Denethor looked at Legolas quizzically. "You have only been here one night. Why would you already be willing to betray your people?" he asked, slightly suspicious.

Legolas looked up for the first time and said, "Prince Boromir said that he would kill my _Ada_ if I didn't cooperate with him." He then showed his true acting skill as tears began to well up in his eyes. "Please, I just want to be with my _Ada_, I'll do anything!" he sobbed, looking very pathetic and almost child-like.

Denethor seemed pleased by the show of tears, taking it as a sign that elves were weak and would be overcome eventually. Boromir took a risk and decided to make the tale seem a bit more realistic. "I discovered that this Elf is only fifty, and considered a child by his people. Taking into account what I have heard of family connections in their culture, I decided that threatening this Elf's father would be highly effective. As you can see," he concluded, gesturing at the still-weeping Legolas, "it was."

Denethor nodded. "I understand. Take your guard with you for protection, though. Willing or not, never trust an Elf," he stated, as though he were doling out age-old wisdom. "Leave as soon as you are packed for a journey. I will tell the kitchen to prepare some food for your journey."

"Thank you father," Boromir replied. "If I have your leave?" he asked, gesturing towards the doors. When Denethor nodded, Boromir pulled at the chain he held. Legolas stood, wiping away the few tears still on his face, and went with Boromir out the door; Strider followed the two out. They walked silently to Boromir's rooms, and spoke again only after the door was closed.

Legolas was the first to speak. In fact, he began with a laugh. "Fifty years old? Is the so-called King of Gondor so stupid to think that I look fifty?" he asked, laughing. "Although, I must admit that it was a creative response," he added, thoughtfully.

Boromir smiled. "And you saying that I threatened to kill your father? That was… inspired," he replied. "Now, let's start packing. How long will we be?" 

Legolas sat down on the floor. "I have no idea how long it will be. Pack for a week, we can wash clothing in the river if it's any longer than that," he suggested.

"What do we need in terms of food?" Aragorn asked. "Taking the hobbits into account, of course," he added. "There are the outposts with food if we need it, or hunting, but we need food to start with."

After some quick calculations, Legolas answered, "Ask the kitchen for about two weeks of food. Adding the little ones, that will amount to a week of food." He thought for a moment before speaking again. "When will the distraction be set?" 

"After we are packed, have the food, and have the hobbits with us. We will walk past there, and I shall light the fuse," Boromir replied. He looked up from his pack. "I'm ready. Strider, are you done?" he asked. After seeing Aragorn nod, he told Legolas, "You pack is under the bottom of the bed. You weapons are in it as well."

Legolas retrieved his pack, checked through it to make sure that everything was there, and put it on. He carried his bow in his hand, unstrung so as not to alarm anyone, and Aragorn wore Legolas' quiver. The three left the room, and headed to the dungeons to get the hobbits. There were no problems removing the hobbits from there, and they soon moved off to the storage room. Boromir went in with a flint, and came out with a smirk on his face. "If this doesn't get their attention, nothing will," he commented. They went to the kitchen to retrieve the food, and then moved out to the stables.

When they got there, Legolas' face registered a cross between happiness and anger. "Arod!" he called, dashing over to a riding ring where a light grey horse was being abused for disobeying. 

Boromir ran after Legolas and grabbed his arms. "What are you doing?" he hissed into the Elf's ear. "I told you not to run off!" he said loud enough for the stable hands to hear. 

Remembering his role, Legolas bowed his head. "I am sorry, master, but that was my horse, before you captured me. He should not be beaten for not wanting a saddle or reins, for he was never raised to wear them," he explained.

Boromir thought for a moment, and then called to the trainer trying to keep the horse from rearing, "Hey you! Are you so incompetent that you can't keep a simple horse quiet?"

The trainer, Stephan, looked over at Boromir, trying to hide the anger in his eyes. "I am sorry, highness, but this one just does not want to be restrained," he replied.

Boromir smirked. "Oh really? I dare say that my slave could calm that horse without a whip," he challenged haughtily. 

Stephan stood up to his full height. "I'm willing to watch him _try_," he called back. Boromir released Legolas' arms and Legolas jumped into the riding ring. The Elf quickly placed himself in front of Arod and murmured gently in Elvish, and the effects were immediate. Arod stopped rearing and came up to Legolas, nuzzling the Elf's hand as if looking for a treat. After a few quick pats and a brisk check for injuries, Legolas mounted the horse and walked it around the ring a few times. Stopping next to Stephan, he dismounted while commenting, "You could try being _kind_ to the horses. They respond better that way." With that, he walked back to where Boromir was standing and exited the ring. "I'm sorry, I just couldn't watch Arod being treated like that," he said apologetically.

Stephan walked over to where Boromir was standing. "What is it that the Prince needs today?" he asked calmly. 

"I need three horses and four ponies," Boromir replied. "How soon can you have them ready?" he asked.

Stephan shook his head. "We've only got two ponies, Highness. We only ever keep two in the stables," he commented. "But they're strong ponies. If you can make do with two, I can have you ready as soon as the horses are chosen and have their gear put on," he added.

Boromir furrowed his brow slightly. _'If the hobbits ride double, then it should be no problem,'_ he mused. "That will be fine," he replied. "I will ride my usual mount. Strider, pick a horse from the stable," he ordered. Legolas looked wistfully at Arod, a movement that Boromir picked up readily. "Little Elf, would like that one?" he asked, pointing to Arod. 

Legolas' eyes lit up at the prospect, but he remembered that he was supposed to be a slave. "Yes, master, I would," he said quietly. 

Stephen groaned. "Highness, we haven't managed to put a saddle or reins on that one yet. It is said that this particular one had an Elf for a rider, and we all know that Elf-trained animals are hard to tame," he explained carefully. 

Boromir glared at Stephan for a moment before pulling the hair away from one of Legolas' ears. "He _is_ an Elf, you fool! Not only will this save you the trouble of training it, but also it will allow him to think that he is useful. Do you understand that?" he asked in a low tone. 

Stephan gulped and nodded. At that moment the two ponies as well as the two other horses were brought out. Legolas and Strider helped the hobbits mount the ponies, Sam and Frodo on one, Merry and Pippin on the other, before Strider mounted his own. "What are the names of these mounts?" he asked Stephan, stroking his horse's neck. 

"The horse is named Hasufel. The ponies are known as Bill and Jim," he replied. "Highness, should I go get the other horse from the training ring?" he asked, looking nervously at the horse.

He had every right to be nervous. The moment Arod noted that the cruel trainer was looking at him, he snapped his teeth while glaring straight at the frightened Man. "No, perhaps his rider should," Boromir replied. Legolas jumped back into the ring, mounted Arod, and had Arod jump the fence surrounding the ring. Boromir mounted his horse, Brégo. He walked his horse beside Legolas' and procured a piece of rope. "I would have just held your reins, but since you have none, I shall have to tie you to me," he commented, tying the rope around his waist, and then around Legolas'.  

Legolas didn't seem to like the idea of being tied to Boromir, but dealt with it calmly. They started the horses at a brisk walk and began to leave Minas Tirith. Boromir looked back wistfully at the city as they left the last circle. "It will never be the same again," he lamented quietly.

Legolas looked over at him, astonished by Boromir's sentimentality. "What do you mean by that? If you refer to the distraction, your home can be rebuilt," he added.

The Man shook his head. "But I grew up there. I knew every stone in that hall, every crack and crevice on the walls. And it's not just that, Legolas. Before, I thought that I was a Prince, destined to rule Gondor one day; I now know that my family and I are the result of one Steward's greed. Never will I look upon the throne room, rebuilt or not, the same way. Everything has changed," he explained, looking forward once more. After a moments thought, he reached over towards Legolas.

Legolas felt the Man's hands on hi waist, but could not see what they were doing. "What are you doing?" he asked. 

Instead of a verbal answer, Boromir held up the rope that had previously been tied to the Elf. "I didn't think you would mind me untying you," he said simply as he coiled the rope up again.

A little ways ahead, Aragorn was keeping a close eye on the Hobbits. Sam had made Frodo sit in front of him, just to be certain that his friend wouldn't fall off. Merry was chattering happily with a very enthusiastic Pippin. "Merry, am I going to see the stars tonight?" he asked happily. "I can't remember the stars, and I really want to see them," he added, looking over at Frodo and smiling. 

"If it is not cloudy, you shall see the stars," Merry affirmed. "And even if it is cloudy, you'll get to hear all of the night noises that nature makes," he continued.

Aragorn rode up beside Merry and Pippin's pony and said, "If it would please you, Pippin, I could show you some of the constellations," he offered with a grin.

Pippin's eyes widened to the size of saucers. "Really?" he exclaimed. "I would love that!" he cried. Aragorn reached out and ruffled his hair in a friendly gesture before turning his attention to his surroundings. 

No one looked back as an explosion rocked the palace, although Boromir did sigh. "Well, I guess the plan worked," he murmured quietly to himself.

And so the group left the city, heading into the unknown, in high spirits. For none of them could tell just how long and perilous this journey would be, or what price the completion of it would be.


End file.
